There was even a tall silk hat of not very ancient pattern.) "Come and look, Monty!" said I, and he and Yerkes came and stood beside me.

Seeing his troubadour charm was broken, Fred snapped the catch on the concertina and came too.
"Arabian Nights!" he exclaimed, thumping Monty on the back.
"Didums, you drunkard, we're dead and in another world! Juma is the one-eyed Calender! Look--fishermen--houris--how many houris ?--seen 'em grin!--soldiers of fortune--merchants--sailors--by gad, there's Sindbad himself!--and say! If that isn't the Sultan Haroun-al-Raschid in disguise I'm willing to eat beans and pie for breakfast to oblige Yerkes! Look--look at the fat ruffian's stomach and swagger, will you ?" Yerkes sized up the situation quickest.
"Sing him another song, Fred.

If we want to strike up acquaintance with half Zanzibar, here's our chance!" "Oh, Richard, oh, my king!" hummed Monty.

"It's Coeur de Lion and Blondell over again with the harp reversed." If Zanzibar may be said to possess main thoroughfares, that window of ours commanded as much of one as the tree and wall permitted; and music--even of a concertina--is the key to the heart of all people whose hair is crisp and kinky.

Perhaps rather owing to the generosity of their slave law, and Koran teachings, more than to racial depravity, there are not very many Arabs left in that part of the world with true semitic features and straight hair, nor many woolly-headed folk who are quite all-Bantu.